ticking out time

I’ll be dammed if I can surrender and I fear I may fail. Must write many words on book with as many technical terms as possible uughgh. Jesus If I wanted to become a mechanic I would have. They said I would get my hands dirty irretrievably so I steered clear. There goes the metaphor.

Egress? Don’t know. I decided to type with my eyes closed and see what the dictionary came up with, so there it is.

Down to our last of the western wealth. All the dreams I ever had of an ethical life have come to fruition and I may have passed the fear barrier. Luckily Sucih is pretty upbeat about being broke. I think he is a terrible hippy at heart. Anyway I am not under the impression that I will be missing out on anything bar an expensive breakfast at the Sugar Beat. It was always a transposed joy. A mild hope that I could grasp all that was good of the aspiring cosmopolitan. It wasn’t to be. The noises were always too loud. The company varied in inspiration and sometimes reduced to discussions of telly shows or better yet on things akin to. It was just a vapid dream.

There has been a fabulous breeze all day coming in stroking my face as I sit at the desk living through the machine; if not a machine then a book. If not a book a bell; if not a bell a child. Last but not least sleep and food though food is losing its potency over me. I don’t think they use enough MSG here.
It is ambient but I dare not indulge too much. Sabotage however it manifests still has me in a mean vice like grip of aprehension. I try to make a deal with Maya. I will relent and let go if you go easy. Well I expect she hears me but I shudder to know her answer. In fact I have it clear now. Walk the talk and it was a lifetime in the waiting.
Activism was always the way it was going to work out but ironically enough it was Iskcon that suggested refraining from it. Consume to your hearts content and call it service to God or the self either way they are connected, No?
Brasso is nasty stuff but in the service of Krishna it appears it doesn’t matter. I wonder if that is so for the ocean. Of bodies of water I am the sea. Pollute me and know that in service I will readily tolerate it. Sorry I am not sold. Too much merging and I sold out.
But circumstances are putting me in a position that resembles all the dreams I had forgone. The hut could very well be the finale.

I used to practice my ocarina lest I be left without music. I would have to create my own. Maybe I felt the impelling nature of my future.
House full of lap tops and not a penny to be had. Bloody hysterical.
Once the kids are out and about it won’t be an issue. All an old lass needs is a bit of soap to make her tolerable.

Ever stood in a temple on a hot and sweaty day jammed utterly by every villager in the district. I felt like the white spot on a cow and then after a while I ceased to be white. I had melted and so had they. They have the most incredible resilience, tolerant beyond belief. It is not about being comfortable it is about being alive and all that goes with that beyond the fantasies of self.

I spent all summer watching the slow demise of the bee hive across the way. Kalki had been attacked [his fault] and I was anxious these darlings find a habitat elsewhere. Well just shows you the power of meditation. They have shacked up on our windowsill now. Is that some kind of joke? An empiricist would say the logic of it is that my home has trees surrounding it thus providing a more temperate shelter. I thought of this but I have a sneaking suspicion I might have looked in the direction of the bee hive once too often.

Thus I end up in India living some wild fantasy, adventure. I even have a body of water to look out on. Flood water but water non-the less.
It was never going to be ordinary. I knew Sucih could handle that so it is he that partners this madness.

Kalki is big now. He is off to Tarunpur to visit another cyber kid. Radha takes him for the sneak peak she gets in going. We all have our consolations. Struggling for mine. Shouldn’t be ungrateful.
Where is lunch?

Thanks to a sentimentalist that loves dogs our landscape is smothered with the barking brutes, bickering and threatening each other. I was over dogs after my 12th. It can be a bit like love. There is only so much in the way of lies you can accept before you click on. This love thing is a living lie. Desire on the other hand, well that gets more manageable with age. The desire for the most significant moment in your life to happen; it is always in the eyes. One great big eye ball of an affair in hope and yearning. Not the eyeball that rots.